


Lifelong Struggle

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Periods, pcos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 05:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

“How’re you doing, Spence?” you asked, sitting on the couch with your hot water bottle as you spoke to your boyfriend while he was at work. You’d only started dating Spencer a few of months ago, but this was the first time since you got together that Aunt Flo decided to make an appearance. Damn her. 

Since the age of 14, when you’d first been diagnosed with PCOS, you’d gotten maybe six periods a year, and when you did, you literally felt like your midsection was on fire. You barely ate. You barely moved, only getting up to go to work. You slept constantly. It was awful and painful and nothing seemed to help for the three fucking weeks your body decided to bleed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I’ll be out of here in an hour. Did you want to stay in tonight instead of going out?”

“Yea, actually, please,” you said, pressing the bottle firmly to your stomach. “I’m gonna take a nap, okay. Wake me up when you get here.”

“See you soon.”

—–

About two hours later, Spencer had gotten out of work, gone home to get changed, and showed up at your apartment. “Wake up, babe,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Do you want me to make you dinner?” You must’ve looked either peaceful or dead because he rarely cooked, which you thought was odd. A mind like his would probably go well with reading exact recipes.

“That’s okay,” you replied, pushing up off the couch as the blanket fell to the floor. “I’m just going to have some jelly on toast. I’m not really in the mood for anything else. I do have leftover lasagna in the freezer if you want to heat it up for yourself though.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You haven’t been eating a lot lately and your eyes are really sunken. I don’t want you to get sick.” Too late. Your body was trying to murder you. 

Whenever your period did decide to grace you with its presence, you felt like the grossest lump in the entire world, literally and figuratively heavy with the weight of your hormones. But you stood up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m fine, Spence,” you said softly as you picked up the blanket and wrapped yourself up like a burrito as you walked into the kitchen. “I’m just not hungry.”

You walked into the kitchen and placed two pieces of bread in the toaster after telling Spencer to help himself. You were still tired, but you figured the both of you could eat dinner, or for you what qualified as dinner, while you watched a movie. But first, you needed to go to the bathroom for what was legitimately the 20th or 21st time today and make sure you weren’t bleeding through another two pads. Two at a fucking time. You didn’t know why, but for some reason you didn’t want to tell Spencer you had PCOS yet. It came with a lot of preconceived notions and some realities that you weren’t sure he’d be able to deal with. Last thing you wanted was to bleed in front of him; you weren’t that close yet. 

—–

Spencer was worried about her. He and Y/N hadn’t been dating more than a few months, but as a profiler he couldn’t help but notice certain behaviors. They didn’t indicate anything good. Almost every time she ate, she’d go to the bathroom before and after. She was constantly sick. He assumed that if she had been diagnosed with something, she’d tell him, but if she had an eating disorder, which is what it looked like to him, he figured she might not. It hadn’t taken him long to develop feelings for her, so he felt like he had to say something. He just hoped he was wrong.

—–

After returning from the bathroom, which could’ve looked like a murder scene to anyone who didn’t know better, you grabbed your toast and picked out a jar of strawberry jelly. You didn’t really feel like eating anything, but this did look appetizing. As you sat down on the couch next to Spencer, you felt him stiffen. “You sure you’re okay? You were in there for a while.”

“I’m fine, babe,” you smiled, your eyes feeling heavy as your head rested against his shoulder.

Y/N felt her body rise as Spencer took a deep breath. “I don’t want to make any assumptions,” he said turning you toward him, “But I’m worried about you and I need to say something. If you’re struggling with your eating, or your self-image, or anything, I can put you into contact with someone that can help. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Blinking as you tried to decipher what he was actually talking about, it suddenly dawned on you. “You’re worried I have an eating disorder?” you asked. That was the farthest thing from the truth. You wanted to eat - desperately, but when you felt like this, everything made your stomach turn. You didn’t want to tell Spencer, but you also didn’t want him thinking that you had an untreated problem.

“I don’t have an eating disorder, Spence. I have PCOS,” you said, wondering how he’d react. “I have since I was 14. It’s been a lifelong struggle. It makes me sick a lot, and whenever I get my period I can’t eat that much, I get sick, and that fucker decides to stick around for two-to-three weeks instead of five-to-seven days.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me? Periods are a completely natural thing you know.”

“I know,” you laughed, grazing your hand up his chest. “It just has a lot of preconceived notions that come with it, so I didn’t want you to run away.”

“What kind of preconceived notions?” he asked confused. “Like trouble having kids?”

You nodded. From the very beginning you knew that Spencer wanted kids, so they idea that you very likely wouldn’t be able to have them was something that weighed on your mind, more so when you started seeing him. “I know you’ve always wanted them.”

“There are plenty of ways to have kids,” he said, burying his nose in your hair. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

That was a relief. Spencer was unlike any man you’d ever met - the perfect mix of emotional and intelligent. “Thanks, Spence.”

“Do you want me to heat up the hot water bottle again?” he asked as he got up from the couch. Smiling, you reached up to hand it to him and collapse back into the cushion. After putting the heated bottle for a couple of minutes, he returned to the couch. “Come sit on my lap,” he said, lifting you into his arms so you could rest against his chest.

“What if I bleed on you?” you said. The thought petrified you. “You have no idea how much I die when I have my period.”

“It’s blood,” he laughed. “I’ll live. You look like you could use a cuddle, so I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Leaning back, you lifted your hand up and caressed the side of his face. “I know we’ve only been dating for a few months…but I kinda like you a lot.”

“I kinda like you a lot too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “No matter what.”


End file.
